


Alive

by kisssanitygoodbye



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hand Job, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisssanitygoodbye/pseuds/kisssanitygoodbye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Anders is physically present, and he can touch him whenever he wants to, but there’s always this wall between them, made of secrets and regrets and the thought about having no future. He wonders if there will ever come a time when Anders will be completely out of reach, not responding to anything Garrett is willing to give him."<br/>- Written as a birthday gift for wadebramwilson on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alive

„You are the worst player I‘ve ever met, Blondie.“ Varric collects the cards from them and puts them in the pocket of his coat. „And that’s saying something.“

Garrett can see Anders‘ eyes narrowing before three hours of pent-up frustration escape him in the shape of a quiet, weary sigh. He is so familiar with the sound by now that he wants to smile, but then he remembers how much he wishes that he would never have to hear it again. Happy people don’t make those kinds of sounds.

„Maybe I should just stop coming to Wicked Grace nights“, the mage says quietly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and staring at a sticky stain on the table. „I’m just losing money I should use for my Clinic.“

„Aw, cheer up, Blondie. You know I hate seeing you like this. How about we go up to my room and let Isabela read some friend fiction to us, hm? Her newest story will go down in history, I’m convinced of that.“

Garrett smiles up at the dwarf, suddenly hit by a wave of affection.  _Thank you for being here, Varric. Thank you for taking care of him in the moments when I can’t._

„Uhm, you know, Varric, I think we might just go home.“ He throws a quick glance at Anders, who looks downright miserable with his nearly empty mug of water in hand, not even listening to the conversation taking place right in front of him. „I’m actually really tired.“ He’s lying, feigning a yawn, and Varric raises an eyebrow as Isabela frowns and Anders just sits there like a ghost.

„Are you sure? You don’t know what you’re missing.“ Isabela’s tone is light, but Garrett is not blind. He sees the sympathy in her eyes, in the way her lips curl into a weak smile, and he wants to tell her that it’s going to be alright, that things will be better tomorrow, that Anders is just having a bad day, but that would only be another lie. It has been this way for so long now that he can’t even remember when it had started to get worse.

He doesn’t want to see his friends‘ pitiful faces anymore. „Yes, I’m sure. You coming, Anders?“

„Huh?“ Garrett has expected that. Anders is physically present, and he can touch him whenever he wants to, but there’s always this wall between them, made of secrets and regrets and the thought about having no future. He wonders if there will ever come a time when Anders will be completely out of reach, not responding to anything Garrett is willing to give him. His throat tightens at the thought.

A warm hand is all it takes this time to get the mage’s attention. „Let’s go home, okay?“

Anders nods, sighing again before getting up, and the sound is so, so tired that Garrett wishes he could carry him.

They both wave to Varric and Isabela – Garrett with a forced smile, Anders with an apathy that wipes Varric’s small smile from his lips – before leaving the Hanged Man and stepping out into the cool Lowtown air.

They walk in uncomfortable silence for a while, the dark, starless night wrapping itself around them like a cloak. He can hear Anders‘ breathing grow louder as they walk up the stairs to Hightown, and Garrett nearly cries out in relief when he  _finally_ opens his mouth as soon as they have crossed the market place.

„You shouldn’t have to deal with this.“ His voice is so quiet that Garrett has to move closer to be able to understand him. „With me.“

Garrett stays silent, their soft footfalls and the distant laughter of a woman the only sounds filling the air around them.

Anders opens his mouth and closes it again, a quiet huff escaping his lips.

„Come on, Anders. Talk to me. Please.“ It’s pathetic how needy he sounds, because he  _shouldn’t be_ , because he is Anders‘ anchor, always has been, and anchors aren’t allowed to sway in the current.

Garrett’s fingers brush Anders‘ as they walk up another set of stairs, and it is enough to get the mage to open his mouth again. „You don’t deserve this, Hawke. I’m… I’m this disease in your life that you can’t get rid of. And don’t tell me that I’m being overly dramatic“, he quickly adds just as Garrett is about to reply with a snort. „Maker, I’ve even started ruining your evenings at the Hanged Man now.“

They are just a few steps away from the estate now, so Garrett waits until he has unlocked the door and let them both in before he speaks again. You never know who might be lurking in a corner of Hightown, and he doesn’t need more gossip about the _dangerous apostate_  he’s living with.

It’s quiet in the entrance hall, and Garrett assumes that everyone has already gone to bed. It’s a relief to know that they won’t be overheard.

„You aren’t ruining anything, Anders. I’ve  _chosen_  this. I’ve chosen you. You’re always saying that I don’t need to feel obligated to stay with you, and I don’t.“ He takes Anders‘ arm and turns him around so that they face each other, and he puts a hand on his cheek, stroking his thumb over the rough stubble there. „You keep telling me that I can tell you to leave, and it’s killing me. ‚Until the day we die‘. I promised you this, and I meant every word I said. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.“

„But I-„

Something inside of Garrett snaps, months full of pent-up frustration and sorrow and unspoken words and love – so much love – come crashing down around him until he’s nothing more than raw feeling laid bare, and he can’t listen to Anders talk like this, he can’t look into those amber eyes and see the emptiness there, he can’t keep living with a person who is more dead than alive on the bad days, and still carries a burden on the good days, far too heavy for the shoulders of one single man. 

The only thing he can do is put his other hand on Anders‘ chest and push, shoving him into the wall next to the fireplace, forcing him to finally  _listen_. There’s a small pang of guilt stabbing at his heart when he sees the shock on his lover’s face, but he can’t back off now.

„Anders“, he says, and the name comes out as a low growl. „I would single-handedly kill a High Dragon just to hear the sound of your voice, so don’t tell me you’re not worth it.“

And then he realises that words are not enough, and with another growl he starts undoing the laces of Anders‘ coat, pushing the fabric off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor with a quiet rustle.

Anders gasps as Garrett pushes his cool hands under his shirt, trailing over his stomach, his sides, along the hem of his trousers and pausing, his fingers brushing against the darker trail of hair there, and Anders feels so  _alive_  under his touch, warm skin and hot breath and flushed cheeks.  _This_  is the person he fell in love with, not an abomination, not an apostate, not a healer, but a man. It’s all he ever wanted, all he ever needed.

When he opens Anders‘ trousers and slips a hand inside, fingers curling around his half-hard cock, giving it a few experimental strokes, Anders groans, letting his head fall forwards onto Garrett’s shoulder, burying his face in the side of his neck.

He doesn’t have enough room to move, so Garrett quickly pushes down his lover’s trousers, followed by his underwear, and his grip around Anders‘ now fully erect cock tightens, the strokes getting faster, more urgent, his other hand pressed against the wall for support, and every gasp, every groan, every whimper sounds like music to his ears.

„I love you.“ His own voice is strained as well, and he’s painfully aware of his own erection pressing against his trousers, but he tries to ignore it. This is not for him.

It doesn’t take long. A few more quick, firm strokes and Anders cries out, his body shuddering against Garrett’s, warm, sticky fluid coating his hand and the hem of his shirt.

They stay like this for a few moments, Garrett’s hand still wrapped around Anders‘ softening cock, Anders‘ mouth pressed against Garrett’s neck, and Garrett can feel the slowly calming breaths on his skin.

„I love you too“ Anders mumbles against his neck before he lifts his head and lets it slump against the wall, and now there’s a small smile on his lips, and a sparkle in his eyes, and Garrett knows that he will do everything in his power to keep it there as long as he possibly can. 


End file.
